Silver Brumby Promise
by blueroanmare
Summary: Before Thowra was alive in the world, a small creamy filly was born. She was named Bel Bel and grew to be a beautiful mare full of wisdom and cunning. She is the most desired mare in the mountains, and most worthy to be the mysterious dam of the Silver Brumby.


It was a grey day that promised rain; a day where the great clouds were amassing themselves up on the Ramshead Range, but as yet, they could not unleash their load of water. The dun mare, big with foal, walked tiredly around the granite tors, searching for just the right place. She was far from her own herd but she felt safer this way - away from the men and their cattle that sometimes came to the plains where the herd grazed. She needed to be alone and tucked away.

She looked up at the sky and knew she must find shelter before the storm broke. A dingo's song echoed through the mountain air. She shivered, stamping a small hoof lightly but knew the golden dog would not come here. Perhaps it was foolish to come this high but instinct drove hard. It was early in the spring and the snows were still up on the Ramsheads. She would not go that far, for she must have grass to eat. The dun sought a small creek and at last found a trickle of water where she could slake her thirst. Her golden coat was slightly damp with sweat and she pricked her black ears nervously.

At last she found her spot: a copse of snowgums that were thick enough to shelter from the weather but close enough to the water and the snowgrass she desperately needed. Satisfied, the mare grazed the evening away and watched the sun sink down in a blaze of fire. The storm might not break tonight, or even tomorrow, but she was glad to have shelter.

During the night, the wind whistled through the tors but the mare did not mind. They made noisy music for her as she lay down at last early in the morning. A few drops of rain fell but they did not touch her. A gang-gang called and its mate answered. A kurrawong flew overhead and the dingo cried again, its voice twisted weird and wild among the rocks. A wombat waddled by the copse, peered in, then went on its way. The wallabies paid little attention to the grunts the dun mare made but sprang on strong hind feet to the creek.

Soon enough, she was licking off a little creamy filly, who shivered in the soft breeze that blew through the snowgums. The tiny ears were dark like her dam's but the mane - what little of it there was - was snow white. She snuffled and snorted in confusion but settled when her dam's tongue licked her comfortingly. The dun mare felt pride in producing such a lovely filly and wondered how she would fare when she grew. Every stallion would be interested in such an unusual colour. And what about the men? Her own dam had been a creamy and had taught her all she knew of the bush. She'd teach this little one too and hope she'd be safe.

Nosing the filly, she encouraged it to stand. At last the the little one stood on trembling legs, still swaying from her mother's tongue. "You must be cunning and swift if you will live," the mare said to her daughter. She licked a few more times before naming her. "You are Bel Bel, my beautiful young one."

Bel Bel whickered before staggering to her mother's side. Soon there was the sound of hungry suckling and the filly's tail wagged furiously. Kurara, for that was the dun mare's name, felt satisfied how strong the foal was already and decided she would stay in the shade of the snowgums for the morning. She let the foal tumble down onto the sweet grass and sleep while she watched carefully for any hint of danger.

When the sun was high in the sky, Kurara once again nosed at Bel Bel. Her throat was parched and she needed water badly. The filly sleepily snorted and struggled up, quicker than she had the first time, and followed her dam curiously. Kurara gratefully slaked her thirst at the creek and watched the filly spook at the water when she accidentally stepped into it. A kookaburra laughed at her and Bel Bel nearly fell over her spindly legs trying to see the bird.

Snorting in amusement, Kurara put her head down and began to graze the snowgrass. The mountain grass was just putting up green shoots, sweet to the taste. The dun mare knew to make good milk for her foal, she must return to the herd, but for now, she'd wait until tomorrow when the filly would be strong enough to travel.

Bel Bel was tremendously curious. She sniffed every rock and tree. She chased a butterfly. The gang gangs threw nuts at her and made her squeal and gallop as best she could back to her dam's side. "They are only naughty birds, young one," Kurara reassured her. Still Bel Bel clung to her side tightly until the mob of gang gangs flew away at last.

A kangaroo paused to see the filly and flicked soft grey ears at the pair. When Kurara had grazed all the day and all the evening, she returned to the copse to let the filly fall down and sleep. Sleep to build strength for the journey tomorrow. The rain would fall, but go they must.

As it was the storm broke during the night but Kurara stood over her filly. At first Bel Bel had trembled in fear and sweat broke out on her dark ears, but Kurara murmured to her, "A storm. It brings rain and gives us better grass and washes away the last of the snow for spring." Bel Bel hadn't really any idea what all of that meant, but it all sounded good so to sleep she went and did not stir until morning.

Once Bel Bell had woken and nursed, she followed her mother closely and curiously as the dun mare slowly grazed down the mountain against a red streamed sky. They did not hurry but the filly was allowed to rest when she was tired. For an hour or so they walked down the ridgetops back down to the snowgum forst. At last a great meadow opened up before them and Kurara looked around carefully. "We spend some of the summer here. The men and their cattle do not come this far, but we get fair enough grazing." She paused then warned her filly, "Never run out onto clear country without taking a very good look first. It could be dangerous."

Bel Bel did not know what she meant but stared out at the clearing with wide eyes and pricked ears.

"Come," was all Kurara said as she stepped out onto the meadow, the little one tight on her quarters. She went proudly, knowing her golden coat gleamed brightly. The foal's creamy coat promised to be nearly the shade of Kurara's one day but today it was soft and fluffy. They wound down to a lookout across the valley and Kurara whickered, "That is the Crackenback River. A good place for young ones to splash about in summer and roll on the sandy banks."

The pair at last made it to an old hut standing near Dead Horse Creek, but Kurara stayed far away from it, only letting Bel Bel peek through the trees at it. "That is where Man lives and that is his hut for when he comes with his cattle. Come. Let us go." This time she hurried her foal past Dead Horse Hut and across the creek and up to the head of the Crackenback where she let Bel Bel rest her tired legs. The stream sang beside them but once in a while the north wind blew and Kurara would snort, wrinkling her nose. "Smoke! Man!"

This would never do. She eventually nosed the foal up and made the long trek up Dead Horse Ridge. It took the exhausted foal hours to climb it but once they made the top, Bel Bel tumbled down to the grass and was let to sleep until daybreak.

The going was easy after that and Kurara looked forward to meeting up with her herd. Hoofprints dotted the turf and she sniffed them eagerly. She recognized the tracks of her stallion and pranced forward.

Except it was not Flame she saw first but a bay stallion that blocked her path. Kurara instantly pinned her ears back and stepped between him and Bel Bel.

The bay whinnied softly and alluringly and Kurara was able to see in a glance he was a four year old. Strong and able, but she wanted her own stallion, not this intruder. Trotting off to the side of the path, she tried to hurry Bel Bel along and reach her herd which surely was just further down the valley. The bay was not easily dissuaded and stepped up to her, trying to gain her attention, clearly hoping she'd see what a handsome horse he was. When he saw his advances were ignored, he became more insistent on trying to herd the mare and foal back to where his herd must be. "Come… come away with me," he whinnied quietly.

Kurara squealed loudly and lashed out with a double barrel kick. It missed the bay but it gave her a bit more time to try to escape his hounding. Unable to travel quickly with a new foal she nevertheless urged Bel Bel into a gallop. Pounding hooves followed her and Kurara risked a look. The bay was close - too close. She burst out onto fully open country and saw horses below. She whinnied loudly and every head popped up and stared. The dun called one more time before galloping to meet them.

A stallion scream rent the air and Flame rose up on strong hind legs. His chestnut coat burned in the sun and his flaxen mane spilled over his neck. He swept past his dun mare and met the bay stallion in a tidal wave of fury.

Bel Bel, let to slow down at last, stood on trembling legs, ribs heaving in and out. She gave tiny whinnies of fear as she watched the two stallions fighting. They were terribly loud and the sounds of striking hooves on flesh terrified her. One or both stallions would scream and rise on hindlegs, each head snaking forward to try to get that all important wither bite. The turf got torn under the dancing hooves as the stallions circled each other to strike again.

At last the bay admitted defeat. He was bleeding from several great bites and backed away from the angry chestnut. One more strike with a foreleg and Flame chased the younger stallion away. When he was satisfied he came back and went directly to Kurara. They touched noses, ignoring Bel Bel's spook at the smell of the stallion's blood. Once Flame was sure that his mare was unharmed he glanced curiously at the creamy filly before moving on and beginning to graze once again.

Safe with the herd once again, Kurara mingled with the other mares who were very interested in the new foal. Bel Bel was nervous and clung to her dam's side but peered at the other young horses. A plain bay filly foal was the most curious of the lot and came the closest to Bel Bel. Kurara noticed and greeted the bay mare, "You have a very pretty little one Myrtle. What have you named her?"

Nosing her filly proudly, Myrtle said, "This is Mirri. She was born three days ago. And you have a creamy filly! All your foals are lovely, but this is the loveliest of all."

"Thank you kindly," Kurama replied proudly. "Bel Bel is a fine foal - she is a throwback to my mother who was a creamy too. But your foal is very lovely and you have every right to be proud."

The two fillies looked at each other in interest, snuffled curiously then turned back to their respective mothers for a drink. The herd spent the rest of that day grazing under the bright sky and the watchful eye of their flaxen chestnut stallion Flame.


End file.
